


sorting through the ages

by wishfulcanadian



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Gen, Harry Potter Next Generation, Hogwarts House Sorting Ceremony, M/M, Other, POV Minerva McGonagall, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:33:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26321197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wishfulcanadian/pseuds/wishfulcanadian
Summary: Each of Harry’s children get sorted into a different House.(NOW COMPLETE.)
Relationships: Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Scorpius Malfoy/Albus Severus Potter
Comments: 16
Kudos: 137





	1. teddy lupin

Teddy’s sorting was eventful. 

Most Professors on the Hogwarts staff remembered both his parents - Tonks, with five colours in her hair, and Remus, a Prefect and a colleague - and had fought alongside them in the same war (and later were present at the wake). So, when ‘Lupin, Edward’ was called out, they exchanged fond smiles and briefly wondered how time had flown by.

If they had looked _at_ the crowd, and narrowed their eyes at the boy himself, they would have remembered that his mother had tripped over air and knocked out her front tooth, and his father had been behind some of the most notorious pranks the school had ever seen. Edward, who went by Teddy, was grinning in a way that showed no hint of nervousness. Under his hand-knitted beanie - courtesy of Nana Molly - was hair striped in all House colours. When he walked by, the gang of first years gave him shoulder pats.

Some older students had perked up at the name, no doubt recognising it from the Witch Weekly special last Sunday about how this was the year Harry Potter’s godson was starting Hogwarts. The spread had contained a swoon worthy collection of photos of Harry and Teddy, and even included a couple pictures of Teddy as a toddler. 

But it wasn’t just that, though. 

There was an encouraging ‘whoop’ from the Ravenclaw table, and someone from Slytherin yelled, ‘Go, Lupin!’. 

Both of which instantly put Headmistress Minerva McGonagall on alert. 

Something was _off ,_ she thought. The hand waves and the whispers as the boy made his way over to the hat stool were almost _friendly ._ No first year - yet to be Sorted - should have been acquainted with the school students this soon.

From her left, Filius let out a yelp. 

‘What the...’ 

Because, bowing in the middle of the Great Hall to amused laughter was Albus Dumbledore. A very _short_ Dumbledore, stuck in the body of an eleven year old, but with hair and beard silver and touching the floor. 

Pomona clutched her pearls and gasped out a half-laugh.

‘Is that Gandalf?’ a second-year Gryffindor asked, confused. The two Wizarding Wars were OWL-year material as per the revised curriculum for History of Magic. 

In a matter of minutes, the boy tried to take a seat on the hat stool, got his feet tangled in his long beard, and fell on the floor. His forehead hit the stool and as he flailed, one of his hands knocked out the ancient enchanted Hat from Longbottom’s - Neville Longbottom, Teaching Assistant; who would have thought? - and it toppled dramatically over the boy’s forehead in a true testament to his mother’s clumsiness. 

After a long, audible sigh, the Sorting Hat yelled out ‘HUFFLEPUFF!’

In between rousing claps from the table swathed in yellow and black, the beard and the hair and the face reverted back to the one belonging to cheeky Teddy Lupin with bushy silver eyebrows. 

Then, the Dumbledore impersonator did something so audacious that the Headmistress was almost impressed. 

Almost.

To loud hooting from the Great Hall, he _winked_ at the Headmistress, a grin on his face that reminded her so much of his father, even underneath the face that was all Andromeda Black’s. 

Just like that, Minerva remembered who she was dealing with. 

‘Detention, Mr Lupin,’ she said, surprising herself with how her voice didn’t shake. It had been more than forty years since she said those same words out loud and she had never thought she would live to see this day. ‘And five points from Hufflepuff for disrupting the Sorting Ceremony.’

She nodded at Longbottom - who was currently trying very, very hard to suppress a smile - to continue with the rest of the class. Only the Hufflepuff prefects groaned at the point loss, but the lot of them were thrilled to have the _godson_ of the Head Auror in their House.

Minerva pretended not to notice the discreet thumbs up Teddy exchanged with the resident poltergeist hidden in the shadows at the far end of the room. 

Instead, she made a mental note to ask the castle ghosts and the portraits to pay close attention to the dealings between Peeves and Teddy. After all, any child of Nymphadora Tonks and a Marauder would be trouble enough. 

But the same child, who had _befriended_ the poltergeist? 

Minerva was sure that not even the newly reinforced walls of the castle could guarantee Hogwarts remained standing before Teddy Lupin finished school.

Oh well, she thought, clapping politely as ‘Nott, Benjamin’ went to Slytherin. She was due the coming weekend for an evening tea at The Potters anyway. Maybe Ginny would know of the havoc the boy had likely planned.

  
  



	2. james sirius potter

It seemed like everyone was prepared for James’ Sorting. 

If the press had had field days with each of the Weasley children starting Hogwarts - of which there were many - it was  _nothing_ compared to the week-long column inches and stories about The-Boy-Who-Conquered’s first born attending Hogwarts. Pesky gossip columnists had begun cornering anyone who even had the slightest link to the Potter family in truly inconvenient places - like the loo, for one, - fishing for information about how Mr and Mrs Potter felt about their firstborn going off to Hogwarts. 

But Harry and Ginny had steadfastly loyal friends, and none of them breathed a word to the Press. Instead, they put their old DA galleons to good use by giving the celebrity parents a heads up on which Floo routes and Apparition points to avoid. Lee Jordan, in particular, had gotten very creative with coded messages during his WWW segments. 

So, the ‘journalists’ had consoled themselves by writing hit pieces and puff pieces in equal measures about The Potters’ parenting techniques, printing their opinions on everything from opting to send their children to Muggle primary schools to letting them go on trips with Luna Lovegood. They had even published a copy of James’ Muggle grades which resulted in Montague & Sons - the Potters’ family lawyer - suing  _ The Warlock Gazette  _ for invasion of a minor’s privacy. 

(It was good that no one spoke to the press because Harry had cried after coming home from King’s Cross, and Ginny had disappeared off with her broom and didn’t return until dinner.) 

Needless to say, when ‘Potter, James’ was called out by Professor Longbottom, - Herbology Professor and Head of Gryffindor House now; his Gran wouldn’t stop bragging about it - the excited whispers and pointing from all corners of The Great Hall had reached a feverish pitch. Minerva spotted that the older Weasley cousins in Gryffindor (Victoire, twins Roxanne and Fred) and Ravenclaw (Louis) were eagerly craning their necks. 

‘Don’t look now, Headmistress,’ whispered Madam Odessa Plushenko, the new Professor for History of Magic. Binns had  _finally_ disappeared one day, greatly relieving Minerva whose search for an exorcist had proved fruitless. She was on a contract from the Ukrainian Council of Sorcerers for twenty five years, to promote bilateral ties between the two nation’s wizarding governing bodies. ‘But I think our Head Boy might be breaking Viridian’s Fourth Law of Human to Animal transfiguration.’

Minerva spotted him from the corner of her eye. 

Teddy Lupin was at the head of the Hufflepuff table, easily one of the tallest students in school under normal circumstances. Now, however, he was  _the_ tallest wizard in the vicinity (including a half giant) because he had transformed his neck to that of a giraffe’s to get a better view, mimicking the spots and everything. 

‘That boy, I swear,’ Minerva murmured in exasperation, lips barely moving. 

But James Potter seemed to have perfected the art of being the centre of any room he walked in right from the moment he was born - if the room contained a human/giraffe hybrid or not was irrelevant to any discussion - and Minerva soon found herself clapping loudly as a singular ‘GRYFFINDOR’ was heard, before the Hat could even touch his head (It was so reminiscent of another James Potter being Sorted, and Minerva quashed the memory violently lest it resulted in an embarrassing public display of tears). 

She watched as Potter, in his excitement, ran over to the Gryffindor table  _with_ the Sorting Hat on, until an amused Longbottom summoned it back when he was being hugged by Victoire, Roxanne, and Fred. Teddy, exasperated and giraffe neck absent, walked over from the Hufflepuff table to ruffle his god brother’s head, unconsciously changing the colour of his hair to match the Gryffindor banners hanging above them. 

Louis, not one to be left behind, caught the Deputy Headmaster’s eye at the Staff Table in an excellent impression of a kicked puppy,  _begging_ to be given permission to join his cousins’ fray knowing that Filius, the greatest apostle for Inter House Unity, wouldn’t say no. The Head of Ravenclaw waved his hand to acquiesce the request, and the gaggle at the Gryffindor table added another redhead.

‘Oh _ , _ I am going to  _crush_ Hufflepuff in Quidditch now, Teddy.’

_ ‘ Ha _ , dream on, Vic. James is a firstie, he isn’t eligible on the team.’

‘Don’t you worry about that, Head Boy,’ Fred Weasley (the second) said, grinning dangerously at his Head of House who remained oblivious. ‘We plan to use  _ all _ means necessary to amend the school charter.’

Minerva didn’t know if she should caution Longbottom or feel proud that the usually lackadaisical boy was taking  _something_ seriously. 

She would deliberate later, she thought, but first, she would write Potters Sr and congratulate him on his son’s Sorting, feeling a secret thrill at that. It was amazing that she had lived long enough to see a world where the Potter name did not belong to  _only_ a baby which was destined to kill or be killed. 

(She would also need to check with them what broom James had at home, you know, just in case she needed to order the latest Nimbus again.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave kudos, comments, yada yada!


	3. albus s. potter

When Al stepped foot into Hogwarts, the novelty of having Potter or Weasley as the surname had quite faded. 

Over half of the Hogwarts student body had parents who were in the DA or the Order, and had grown up having play dates or hanging out together with the Potter and Weasley children during Ministry functions or Quidditch matches that they all reacted to ‘Potter, Albus’ being called forward with a very mild curiosity. In fact, they were considering it such a non-event that the reaction from the Great Hall for ‘Malfoy, Scorpius’ - momentary silence followed by loud whispers of ‘Death Eater’ - was the most dramatic moment of the night so far. 

(He’d gone to Slytherin like his father, and grandfather, and generations of Malfoys and Blacks before him. He didn’t look too happy about it, though, if the slightly helpless shrug he shared with ‘Granger-Weasley, Rose’ was any indication. She went to Gryffindor accompanied by one of the loudest applauses from the table.)

‘Boy does he look  _exactly_ like his father,’ Slughorn whispered loudly in a voice that carried over and Minerva bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from rolling her eyes in public. Anyone with decent vision could see the resemblance in the wiry frame and the bright green eyes, although his hair seemed much well-behaved. ‘I bet he’s just as gifted.’

That was a stupid comment, because even if Albus Potter blew up the Potions classroom and melted down all the cauldrons, he would _still_ receive an invitation to the Potions master’s little Club. 

The Sorting Hat, however, seemed to be taking its time with the boy. 

To Minerva, it seemed like the boy and the Hat were  _ arguing ,  _ even if she could only see only the back of the boy _. _

Albus (truly unfortunate name, that) was cocking his head in a peculiar way, and then shook it at something. Minerva wondered if his lips were pressing together in stubbornness as he seemingly negotiated a deal. In any case, his cousins and friends started getting antsy, and Minerva could see them shuffling in their seats and whispering with each other. 

Finally, the Hat’s voice said with great gravity, ‘Slytherin.’

For a moment, the Great Hall became deadly silent, and time stopped.

_ Harry Potter’s son in Slytherin?! _

Minerva exchanged a glance of disbelief with Filius who had the same shocked expression on his face. Even Professor Longbottom - the boy's godfather who had won another Order of Merlin (First Class) for his pioneering research on the use of  _ Mimbulus Mimbletonia  _ in trauma recovery - looked gobsmacked. 

Albus, who didn’t outwardly seem bothered, stepped off the stool and politely handed over the Hat to Longbottom, who quickly mustered up a half-hearted smile. He made his way to the Slytherin table (which received him with scattered applause) and purposefully sat  _ next  _ to Malfoy, which caused more confused whispers as the boys exchanged hesitant smiles, squeezed each other’ hands, and ignored everyone staring at him like he had disappointed his family. 

Until a singular loud clap echoed. 

James Potter stood up on the Gryffindor table with an expression so fierce that it made Minerva’s heart skip a beat. He was looking only at his brother as he continued clapping. 

‘Well done, Al!’ he yelled. He beamed at his best mate who was looking up at him, flabbergasted. ‘Didn’t I tell you my brother’s a sneak, Tristan? He’ll go as far as to get Sorted into Slytherin to avoid getting pelted with Slug Slime!’

Albus reacted quickly. 

‘Not if I get you first!’ he shouted back, effectively breaking the tension as laughter rose up from the gathered students. A few of the braver Slytherins patted Al’s back, evidently thrilled that they had a new weapon to counter James Potter & friends’ pranks. 

‘Mr Potter,’ said Longbottom, voice amused but firm. ‘If you could get  _off_ the table so we may proceed?’

James jumped off from the table with an effortless grace and watched as Albus - and by extension, Scorpius, on account of being sat next to him - got pulled into conversations as the Sorting continued. After the Sorting ceremony concluded, and Minerva sat back after her welcome speech (Filch had given her another 32 items from Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes to go on the banned contraptions list this year), she watched as the Potter brothers shared a look over the decadent, elaborate meal. 

The older, ebullient and winking; the younger, grateful and content.

It reminded Minerva of another Sorting almost a lifetime ago, when another young man was Sorted into a House which none of his ancestors had been in, and another James Potter had made sure that he knew he belonged there. There had never been a more shining example of brotherhood than the bond that existed between Padfoot and Prongs.

(If the parallels made her eyes misty, well, she could always blame it on the rather spicy curry that was on the menu tonight.) 

Tomorrow morning, she resolved, she would send Albus a tin of her gingersnaps - she had received a childish ‘thank you’ scrawl once when she had sent a box to The Potters because Harry liked to empty her batch every time he dropped by Hogwarts for his guest lectures - with a congratulatory note and letting him know that her office was always open to him. 

Minerva glanced again at where his older brother sat, head bent next to Tristan Flint and Fred Weasley and wondered if he liked gingersnaps as well. 

Maybe next time Harry came to the school, she could ask him. 


	4. lily luna potter

The Wizarding World of Great Britain had settled into a pleasant sort of lull by the time it was Lily’s turn. 

There hadn’t been a war in over twenty-five years, and Kingsley Shacklebolt was stepping down after overseeing the greatest peacetime transition in wizarding history. House Elves, centaurs, and mer-people had representation in the Wizengamot now, and the Goblins had gone a full decade without threatening war over wizardkind. For the first time in a century, the birth rate of magical children had increased by 40%, and next year, Hogwarts was due to receive a Ministry Grant to hire more staff to assist with the larger class sizes and offer more electives and vocational courses for students who wished to not pursue NEWTs. 

It was generally a happy state of things, and Minerva truly didn’t realize there was anything unusual to the cheer in the air when ‘Potter, Lily’ was called. 

The last of the Weasley-Potter children - Hugo Weasley had gone into Hufflepuff last year - stepped out of the gaggle of firsties with unruly bright red hair, round glasses that mimicked those her father had worn at her age, and robes already messy. She stomped on the ground with every step like she was on a warpath. 

When Professor Longbottom - the youngest Deputy Headmaster of Hogwarts after Filius’ unexpected passing last Christmas - extended his hand to place the Sorting Hat on her head, she looked up at him in defiance, spoke loud enough for the entire Staff table to hear: ‘It’s Potter, Lily  _ Luna _ . I want to be addressed by my full name.’

Longbottom only nodded solemnly and gently nudged Lily Luna to not hang from the edge of the stool. 

‘She’s got spunk,’ said Chandra Armstrong, and Minerva slightly inclined her head, acknowledging it. They had become acquainted with each other, enough for Minerva to consider the younger witch a friend, perhaps, bonding over their shared experience of growing up in the Scottish Highlands to reverend fathers. Minerva was sure that if Professor Armstrong wasn’t homeschooled on account of being a werewolf, her acute intelligence and natural prodigiousness would have compelled the Hat to put her in Ravenclaw.

‘Her mother is a remarkable witch,’ Minerva replied. She then thought of  _ both  _ grandmothers, shivered internally, and amended her statement. ‘She comes from a long line of powerful women.’ 

‘I look forward to having her in my class, then,’ Professor Armstrong said. With a nod towards the general direction of the Slytherin table, she continued. ‘I think Malfoy and Potter are up to something.’

Minerva stilled. 

When Malfoy Sr and Potter Sr had been up to something, it had been a general schoolboy rivalry and a weird game of ‘let’s-see-who-can-get-each-other-into-more-trouble’. 

When Malfoy Jr and Potter Jr were up to something, one of Minerva’s hairs turned grey, she was sure of it. 

The boys were thicker than thieves, and if you weren’t paying attention, you missed them scheming away in the corner, passing notes and whispers, plotting retaliatory pranks and political revolution in between arguing about Quidditch scores and the superior pizza topping. You never knew what news to expect when ‘Scorpius Malfoy and Al Potter’ were mentioned in the same breath, and by the end of their second year, the Slytherin boys had perfected the ‘Good Auror, Bad Auror’ routine which terrorized the entire school body into not making a single snide remark about Scorpius Malfoy’s parentage or family history. 

As the Hat deliberated over Lily Luna’s decision, a ‘G-38G’ flashed above James Potter’s (Fifth Year Gryffindor Quidditch Captain and Chaser) head for a moment. His brother raised his eyebrows from the Slytherin table and Malfoy quickly noted something down. Hector Macmillan - the Slytherin Sixth Year Prefect - drew out his wand and wrote out ‘G-43G’ before him with a smirk that enraged Odessa Flint of Hufflepuff (fifth year Quidditch Captain and Keeper) who replied with a ‘H-43G10S’. 

It was a betting pool, Minerva realized with a start, and with the many flashes of similar symbols appearing and disappearing in the Great Hall, she finally realized  _ why _ the students were upbeat about The Sorting Ceremony. Malfoy and Potter were running a lottery on the outcome of Lily Luna’s sorting. 

‘I advise you to make a note of all the perpetrators, Professor,’ she informed Professor Armstrong. ‘We may be looking at points deduction across all Houses, and at least two detentions tomorrow.’ 

Armstrong frowned. 

‘Shouldn’t we be putting an end to it now?’ 

Minerva was spared a reply by the Sorting Hat bellowing, ‘RAVENCLAW!’

Roxanne Weasley reacted first with a ‘whoop!’, and Hugo Granger-Weasley and Nina Creevey high-fived each other with gusto which meant that they had won. Applause drowned out the disappointed groans, but overall, Malfoy and Potter looked pretty pleased at the outcome. 

Minerva watched as Lily Luna joined the Ravenclaws, exchanging a diricawl dance with Louis Weasley, Ravenclaw Head Boy. Tomorrow, she would take disciplinary action against her students, but today, she would let them find joy in the most mundane of things. 

She had lived through two wars, watched her students die, and stood on the sidelines as life went on. That the toughest decision she was going to make for the day was to choose to discipline gambling now or later was not lost on her. 

She watched from her seat at the head of the table as students of all backgrounds mingled together, sharing easy laughs and easier conversations. 

‘No,’ Minerva said to Armstrong. ‘Not today.’

She could make an exception for  _ these _ children, born to parents who had sacrificed  _ their _ childhood to fight in a war because no one else would. 

Tomorrow, she would write to Draco and Astoria Malfoy and Harry and Ginny Potter about their sons. She would include a P.S. congratulating the Potters on having a child in each Hogwarts House and send them a bottle of  _ Dragon’s Breath Single Malt.  _ She narrowed her eyes as the galleons discreetly (ha!) passed around the Great Hall and made their way into Al Potter’s coin pouch. 

Maybe she would let the parents decide on the perpetrators’ punishment. 

After all, there was no war brewing outside Hogwarts; It would be good to see a Malfoy and a Weasley fight on the same side for once. 

**Author's Note:**

> leave kudos, comments, yada yada!


End file.
